The idea has been championed by sexual consent activist Chanel Contos. Her organisation, Teach Us Consent, is running a campaign which calls for personalised recommendation algorithms to become opt-in. Instead, users would have, by default, a chronological feed containing posts from accounts they have decided to follow.
There are some positive aspects to the proposal. But a chronological feed is not really a “non-algorithmic” feed. It still relies on an algorithm, albeit an exceptionally simple one: take a collection of posts, order them according to time, and show the newest first.
This might sound pedantic. But it points to something missing from the current debate. The problem is not that social media platforms use algorithms. Almost every digital system we interact with uses algorithms to decide what information to sort, filter, or display.
The better question is what are we asking those algorithms to optimise for, and who gets to decide.
How we got to this point
Early social media feeds were relatively simple. You followed accounts and their posts appeared, generally in reverse chronological order.
Over time, and largely driven by commercial imperatives, platforms moved towards increasingly sophisticated and secretive recommendation algorithms. Today, much of what appears in our social media feeds may come from accounts we have never encountered before.
Contemporary recommendation algorithms use our individual and collective data to make predictions about what will keep us clicking, sharing and scrolling. That has produced some genuinely useful forms of discovery. But maximising engagement is a poor substitute for maximising social value.
Indeed, some of the things most effective at capturing our attention are those that make us angry, outraged or frightened. Sensational claims, interpersonal conflict and material deliberately constructed to provoke a response can all perform remarkably well in an attention economy.
Concerns become even more serious when recommendation algorithms repeatedly introduce people to misogynistic, extremist or conspiratorial content.
Making personalised recommendations opt-in could potentially be a worthwhile intervention, although the devil will be in the detail of exactly what ranking mechanism platforms would be required to provide instead. At the very least, it restores an important degree of agency. People should have meaningful choices about the systems organising their attention.
But chronological feeds aren’t a silver bullet.
Chronological doesn’t necessarily mean good
Before platforms became so heavily driven by automated recommendation, discovery was often a much more social process. We all had a few friends who reliably found the interesting, funny, strange or important things happening online and passed them along.
In a sense, we were the algorithms, collectively filtering and curating the internet for one another through our social networks.
There is real value in recovering some of that. It makes the feed more legible because we have some understanding of why something has appeared in front of us.
The earliest social bookmarking services on the web, like Delicious and Digg, let us curate and share interesting content, independent of the platforms or source website.
But chronology alone cannot recreate that environment.



